It’s got to be 5 p.m. somewhere on The Biggest Bar Night Of The Year, and we know you might be cutting out of work before then. Or 6:30 p.m. on the Saturday before. Here’s all that was shown, skin that is, on the initial reopening, of the bar scene in Hudson, and then a second reopening to make up for Minnesota’s second closer. The non-official local ambassador speaks.

Is this a surprise, to compensate for Minnesota, that there were hundreds and hundreds of new people out and about in downtown Hudson on the first night of the bar shutdown that took place across the river. And it was only 6:30 p.m.

(So, it was also announced today that the Badger-Gopher game that is always so big has gotten the “ax” and will not be rescheduled. But there was indeed the airing of the Badger football game, right in front of mostly Minnesota people, on the Saturday night I am referencing — even if early. So, flow with Joe’s Thanksgiving food tips instead to make the most of the time, via this web site’s Pick Of The Week department ).

Hence the earlier weekend and its multiple — as in people — wonders, I hereby became an informal ambassador for the Hudson entertainment scene, in addition to being a HudsonWiNightlife blogger
There was a trio of people looking for Urban Olive and Vine, via their phone, even though they were a full two blocks to the south, and I told them of its amenities which might not be available on all days of the weekend, but included even items for sale displayed on their walls. They seemed to like that idea, once there, over and above the solo man seen playing next to the window, soon to be joined by his female partner.
And the five-person crew coming out of the Smilin’ Moose seemed likewise receptive, shrugging with an “uh huh”to my description of what as available directly to the south, and thanking me, if with only a nod, for the info. The Moose has been one of few trying to somewhat actively enforce the mask requirement, as their principles are from The Cities, and the only ones you will see anywhere in the downtown with masks are newbies to the local scene, pouring over from across the border.
Back at Dick’s and Hudson Tap there was a bit more, if only a bit, of the bare midriff left over from the summer. One had only a teaser of what was underneath, an became thusly just an inch of skin, and another sported an inverted rectangle of her stomach shown, to max out her most exposure, and even her big black boots were higher in number of inches than her blouse, such as it was. At Urban Olive and Vine, the boots were even more on display, to go along with a really short skirt.
Lastly, at Kwik Trip on The Hill, a young girl had on only a camisole with spaghetti straps, oblivious to the weather that was quickly getting colder. A few blocks down at the Hudson House Grand Motel, the lounge that is part of its business, was — according to its sign — having a 5 p.m. opening that had been 4:30, and only on Monday through Friday. Well, this was Saturday and there was no one in the place. The bartender, if he can even live up to that moniker, said there’s is an older crowd, who are not coming out even to the dinner theater across the aisle for fear of getting infected. But this was the first night of a renewed up with the curtain, and one of several measures designed as protection had no meet and greet available after the show. Another ordained new rules for how you could order from your table, and get a receipt, as it was thought early on that even newspaper-type printed paper could spread the infection if handled. And the sign in the ditch right-of-way hawked the idea that there were POP goods available across the city in a sale at the Octagon House, a different kind of entertainment.
Back downtown, Ziggy’s was hopping even before live music was offered that was more than its early piano bar, and there was even a need for four different bartenders. Hop and Barrel, one block north, was by turn was almost empty, but across the street at Hudson Tap the sprawling place was full, and all three pool tables were engaged with multiple-person teams. Next to me was a woman who with a certain sense of embarrassment, alluded to the fact that yes, she was one of those from The Cities. And on the other side of me was a couple who noted that were from the north metro, and yes they were probably the only ones who were retirement age — and they had been here before.
But how to get home? The bartender at Dick’s said he was way to busy to be calling a cab for me, sorry, and walking up and down the street there was none to be hailed. And those that had typically been parked cross the street from Agave Kitchen were not to be seen, even for there minimum fare that can get me back to my North Hudson home for $7.
<<And what about in spring?>>
At the first bar reopening, it was more of the same, with even more of the skin, and we are not talking about just the shirtless joggers and totally bare midriff cross country runners together in a pack, again just prior to 5 p.m. The rub? Telltale is the number of horizontal rips in someone’s jeans, and this can often be strategically placed, close to a dozen in just one leg. Add to the equation big, or not-so-big-just-tall-and-heavily-laced boots that now have replaced green tennies. And X could mark the spot with straps crossing in an otherwise bare back, totally down with it to the tailbone. And the barely bras were not what caught the eye, rather what was revealed from beneath. And all kinds of tops that were over the top, each in their own way. And how long would all this last?
A bouncers take? We agreed that a euphemism could be “lively.” More like really rowdy, to the point that a lot of the regulars were just staying away — for a while. And politics even became topical for an early edition, as a guy said lets do a shot and then you can buy me one too — can’t we just get our own? — but he did have me pegged politically, turning a cheek, so to speak, and ragging on me for allegedly being a Left Wing Biden Supporter. And how could he have known that?
All these thingees in the last paragraph? The themes were much the same on Halloween, and I’ll fill you in on those soon, once I can see if there is any display at all of a Trump head, or more of the camoflague gear that goes with the hunting season.

Share the Post:

Related Posts

My mom has told me not to be a potty mouth when I write, as she certainly would not appreciate hardly any of the standup humor on say, Comedy Central Radio. SNL maybe. But after 11:30 p.m. … But there comes a time where a man must make a stand. And for this jokester, it was now when he had to choose whether to pass on the opportunity that would otherwise bite him in the butt, for in front of and behind him is the Mother Lode. Or should I say load. Or “Mothers” of Invention. Heh heh, heh heh, Butthead, look...
So the wall is down. Of letters, that is. Not down by Mexico. Cemented into the concrete. Of the Kennedy Center. Where music has sat. (Near where a now defunct wrestling arena rusts in peace. Or a bloodied White House lawn. With leftover paper cups and plates, more likely bowls and small utensils, anyone?) Or more ornate than inside? A tarp the size of Pennsylvania, the predominant battle state, covers workers as they chip. So geez, how big are the letters? Four times 50 living workers high? But now none remain, or so we are told by flunkies. Or is...
A few years back, I wrote an article about Hudson Deacon Tom Kroll and how he did so many extra dutiful tasks, his living out the Gospels tirelessly, when his wife was ill, in addition to his regular job. I was inspired at the time to pen this, about my own lovely, disabled wife — we were separated briefly but now back together with our 40th anniversary this month, as wholehearted caregiving has many strains — and how an atypical view of standard roles, out of necessity, made things work, as far as our approach to work and home that’s...
What do fishing, maybe in the dark, thus a Texas ranch, snakes of various types and do they come or stay out after dusk, eating either and only fine food or snacks, and a game of cards — likely just one each — have in common. And no strippers or Chippendales. And an only half or quarter, not full Monty. (Who is Monty anyway?) Or cowboy or cowgirl hats. Although there was some dress-up. More Barbie than boots on, I think. It’s an easy answer, connected and conflicting, but not in all or dirty ways, bachelor and bachelorette parties. One of each...
It was clear to me at the most recent Jeff Loven music show in Hudson, for Memorial Day weekend, that there has been a changing of the guard. The sword has been passed. New blood, like Yungblud, has been brought in. And, I must say, loyalty — amongst the devotees who travel frequently and all across the two-state area to virtually all of Jeff’s shows — has been rewarded. They are the royalty, in what just makes good business sense that I can appreciate. In a significant but not unprecedented altering of course, I was not one of those asked...
Trial by fire. My broiling heart in my efficiency flat still beats a bit, in concern over those boiling over in worse apartments in a Chicago tenancy, or on an ocean island instantly-burn-your-feet beach or dessert, or forced to endure ice baths just to keep cool — or simply be offered no way to maintain an ice-dripping body other than also read a non-cookbook at the library, or select not a big steak you can’t afford but a 73/27 burger from a freezer and slap it on your forehead. Just not too hard. All these things are ones where you especially today either burn or...
Scroll to Top